“Doesn’t matter. I know how to handle people in charge.”
I lifted an eyebrow. Did he, indeed?
“First impressions are everything,” Bradley continued. “You walk in, shake hands, show some confidence. That’s how you get ahead.”
“And what if the new director doesn’t like you?” someone teased.
He laughed confidently.
“Please. What’s not to like?”
I had several answers, though I decided to keep every one of them to myself for another few minutes.
“I guarantee I’ll have this person eating out of my hand before lunch,” he added.
Footsteps sounded behind me as I suppressed a laugh. My assistant, Sophie, arrived with a folder. She glanced from the conference room back to my face.
“Ready?”
I straightened my jacket and settled the folder under my arm.
“Oh, absolutely.”
Bradley had been correct about one thing: first impressions mattered enormously.
Sophie opened the conference-room door.
“Everyone, our new regional director is here.”
I stepped inside, and conversation died instantly.
Bradley was seated near the head of the table, wearing the same confident smile I’d seen on the airplane. His smile disappeared when he recognized me. He looked winded.
I offered the room a pleasant smile.
“Good morning. I’m Rebecca. And unless I’m mistaken, we’ve already met.”
Bradley’s mouth hung open.
“You?”
I went over to him and held out my hand.
“It’s nice to see you again, Bradley. How are your feet?”
Someone snorted, and several others started laughing. Bradley hesitated before reluctantly shaking my hand.
“I had no idea you worked here.”
“And I had no idea you worked here. Small world.”
His face reddened. I surveyed the table.
“I believe Bradley was just telling you about an interesting flight.”
The laughter faded. Bradley swallowed hard.
“Well, I… It wasn’t exactly…”
“Oh, please, don’t stop on my account. I’d love to hear the version where you explain why your bare foot was on my armrest.”
A man near the window dropped his pen.
“Your WHAT?” someone exclaimed.
Bradley glanced anxiously from one colleague to another.
“It was a misunderstanding!”
“Really? Because I remember asking you to move it several times.”
“Rebecca, surely we can discuss this privately—”
“Of course. But since you’ve already shared your version with everyone, I thought they might appreciate the missing details.”
A woman across the table was laughing openly now.
“Wait. You’re the woman with the nail polish?”
“Guilty.”
“Oh my God!”
Bradley hid his face behind his hands. I gave everyone a moment to regain their composure before speaking again.
“Bradley, I heard everything you said outside this room. Including how you treat people who apparently aren’t important enough to impress.”
“I didn’t mean—”
“Fortunately, we’re going to have plenty of opportunities to get to know each other.”
I moved to the head of the conference table and sat down.
“Now, before we discuss anyone’s promotion, perhaps we should discuss what respecting other people actually means.”
Bradley stared at his notebook, finally speechless. The contrast with the man who had been boasting only minutes earlier could hardly have been greater.
After the meeting ended, he came up to me with considerably less confidence.
“I’m sorry about the flight,” he muttered.
“Apology accepted. Your promotion will depend on your work and how you treat your colleagues. Nothing else.”
He nodded and started walking away. His trouser leg shifted, exposing a faint pink stain near his ankle.
“Bradley?”
He paused.
“Yes?”
I couldn’t resist a final smile.
“You missed a spot.”
He stared down in horror.
That evening, I told Megan that her Barbie nail polish had made quite an impression.
“Did he like it this time?” she asked.
I laughed.
“Let’s just say he finally learned to keep his feet to himself.”
